The Fateful Heart 2

Evaline nodded, relieved. She didn't know what she would do if James wanted to know now. She didn't think she'd slip back again explaining it since she was recounting a story and not living through a spontaneous moment she didn't expect, but she wasn't sure she wanted to relive it. She just, overall... she'd rather wait. She'd rather they take their time, even though James didn't know the reason.

"Of course," she said gently. "We'll save it, then."

She paused, realizing that her "it" were only bits of the conversation. Namely, his confession and her questions to him. And maybe parts of her own confession. So, really, well... most of the discussion.

Except one part. She wouldn't mind sharing one part with him now.

"Your bandages," she said, her eyes drifting to his chest, and then over to the fresh bandage over his arm. It was the nasty c-shaped wound that Edna restitched, and the one that turned the course of the conversation last night.

"Mind if I take a look to see if they need cleaning?"

James's eyes widened just a little, and he nodded.

"Sure. I know I... definitely sweat a lot," he said, sounding just a little embarassed.

"I'll take sweating over bleeding," Evaline said with a smile, and then inched closer to James. Visually, she could tell that some of the bandages looked like it could be changed out, but she'd still double check all of them to make sure they didn't feel damp or sticky. If they weren't dry, they could cause discomfort and itchiness, which was the last thing he needed right now since he was already feverishly sick.

Still, she wanted to check on the wounds that Edna had patched up first. She started with the one on his arm, delicately unwrapping the bandage.

"There's some part of our conversation last night that I don't mind sharing," she said softly. "The story."

She paused.

"I told you this to comfort you while Edna restitched this wound, but if you don't remember most of it... I can repeat it for you, if you want. Because it... worked. So maybe you'd want to remember it."

James nodded again, feeling his body tense as she started unwrapping the bandage. Even though he knew it was her, there was a part of him that he didn't know how to control that was starting to wind up with tension.

"Sure," he said, trying to take in a deep breath in an attempt to relax.

Although Evaline had prepared for this conversation while rethinking everything this morning, she still felt nervous. The anxiety started to pool in again, and she paused for far too long after he agreed, biting her lip to prevent herself from saying anything impulsive.

She almost finished slowly unwrapping before she finally spoke up.

"I told a story about our fake identity here as the married Yoen and Evelyn," she said, unwrapping the last layer. "And started with your proposal a year ago. You asked me to marry you in a private place during the sunset, because we both liked quiet places, and you know the sunset is my favorite time of the day. And it was a perfect proposal. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She set the used bandages aside and carefully lifted the gauze. The salve had kept it from sticking to his skin, but also because of the sweat. Thankfully, the stitches appeared to be holding okay.

James's arm flinched as she pulled the gauze away, and his bicep twitched as he felt the warm - but comparably cool - air hit it. The skin felt tender, and the stitches were taut. He closed his eyes, focusing on her story.

"Sounds like a good start," he said softly. "Glad to hear I did something right, then. In the story."

"Right. In the story," she repeated quietly, setting his arm on top of her lap as she took out a clean rag and then dabbed off any sweat or moisture, being careful to not add any more pressure than necessary.

She continued on with the story.

"We went on to live in a small cottage in Lettera. It was by a lake we went to frequently, and we also had our own farm. It wasn't very big, but it was big enough for the both of us. And you'd grow all sorts of vegetables, and I'd help too, but you'd insist on doing most of the work. You always put me over yourself, even for the smallest things. You even changed your diet to be a vegetarian, even though I was okay with your previous diet."

It took her a bit of time to remember what she said exactly, but once she remembered the general gist of it, she added more details. Some of the details were even added on the spot.

Evaline set the rag down and opened the bottle of salve, dipping her finger in it and then slowly dabbing the contents on the closed wound. She did her best to be especially gentle, taking her time.

"You were borderline obsessed with drying produce, and it almost grew to be a strange hobby of yours. You wanted us to be self-sufficient in the winters when we couldn't grow anything. And you partly did this because you like the quiet farming life and so you avoid going to noisy cities and towns whenever possible. But most of all, it's because you've always been this way: independent, and not wanting outside help, even when you needed it. But that was okay, because you had me."

James appreciated the way Evaline tied in real-life traits from the two of them, coming up with believable reasons to explain things in the context of Nye. It was creative and concise, and he didn't know why she hadn't suggested any of it before when they'd discussed a cover story. But most of all, it was a story well told, and he couldn't help but feel himself getting caught up in it, even though it was merely a made-up story about the two of them, but not.

Something started stirring in his heart and in the back of his brain, and it only seemed to intensify at her last sentence.

But it was okay because he had her.

She had no way of knowing how that was actually true, only in different circumstances.

And the story was working. He was wholly distracted and hadn't even realized she'd started applying the salve.

He opened his eyes, looking up at her face to keep his mind on her, and the story she was telling instead of the stories behind the pain and the wounds she was dressing.

He kept listening.

Evaline kept going, not wanting to leave long pauses in the story. She focused on applying the salve, drawing slow little circles in a gentle and rhythmic manner, periodically dipping her finger back in the bottle for more.

"It was your perfect idea of life, just two of us in a quiet farm where no one could find us. But something kept bothering you and made you unhappy. I got along just fine with Larrel and your parents, and I think every time you saw us laugh and interact, you felt a little sad that you couldn't have the same experience with my parents. You hadn't met them, and you didn't like how I left things with them. And so, as the selfless, kind, gentle, and patient man that you are, you decided to leave your dream home behind to find a new life in Ruddlan with me."

While talking, she had finished applying the salve and wiped her finger on the nearby washcloth before closing its lid. She took out some gauze and gently placed it over the wound.

"Because my happiness... is your happiness," she added softly, unfurling the roll of bandages.

There it was again. One of the few phrases that he could remember, playing over and over in his head again. This time, in her voice. Soft, comforting, and like a blanket around his mind. It was enough, for now. More than enough to distract him like this, staring up at her face and her focused expression.

The truth was, everything in this story - though it was all a lie - was easy to believe. If those had been their real lives, he could see himself making that decision, even now, for her.

He didn't find himself sleepy, but he did feel his body start to relax. His lids lowered a little, and his heart wasn't pounding quite as hard as before.

It was okay. They were okay.

Evaline kept going, resuming the story as she focused on wrapping the wound on his arm with a fresh bandage.

"Three months ago was when you announced that you'd like us to leave Lettera to go to Ruddlan, and we've been traveling since. It's amazing how much you can learn about each other in three months when we spend every waking second by each other's side. We've played silly games like two truths and a lie, and we've also acted like two kids in the wild, throwing berries and stick fighting each other. We've also had our fair share of trouble, risking our lives to escape bounty hunters, and encountering monsters and animals to narrowly get away. But we've also had moments that brought us closer than ever. Dancing during the sunset next to a waterfall reignited our spark, and dancing to fast music with an audience turned that spark to a flame. We've watched sunsets during times of stress, and we've both taught each other things we didn't learn until we traveled together."

She had finished wrapping the wound, but she didn't let that distract or stop her from retelling of the story. James seemed relaxed and didn't flinch once, so maybe this method to calm him down was more effective than she thought. She continued on, letting her hand trace over his wounds that were covered by its bandages, trying to get a feel for whether it felt dirty, damp, or sticky.

"This past week was difficult for us with pain and starvation. But we saw a side to each other that we have never seen before. Because, despite being together for three years, we still learn new things about each other everyday. It's like what you've told me: you can never fully know a person. Even after three years. Even after three months."

She finished, and then set her hands back on her lap, sitting upright as she gazed at his chest. The bandages under the arm she just wrapped up felt especially sweaty, and the one near his collarbone felt dirty too. And of course, there was the one the thieves did that was recently stitched.

"And that's it," she softly said after a brief pause, her eyes drifting to the covered cut by the thieves. "That's the whole story I told you last night."

Since this injury was on his chest, he'd have to sit up straight so she could unwrap it from his back. Evaline took a silent deep breath.

"I'm going to look at the other stitched wound. Can you sit up straight for me?" she asked, her nervous eyes finally traveling to meet his.

James nodded slowly as tears started to prick at his eyes. He tried holding them back, but when he blinked, that only made them stick to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. He was looking at her, but now her face was unclear. For some reason that made the tears more persistent.

It was just a story, but he wanted to believe the sentiments behind it were true, and that Evaline really felt that way. He wanted to hear what she wasn't saying outright, but he was afraid to fully believe that it was true.

He could remember what she'd said. That she liked him, and she wanted him, but there was a part of him that kept doubting, over and over again. Almost obnoxiously so.

He pushed himself up slowly, but his recently wrapped arm felt tender, and it twinged under the movement. As he lifted his head again, this time the haze and lightheadedness of the fever rushed his mind at full force, and his vision turned into a blur of colors and shapes.

Yes, he'd managed to sit up straight, but he felt dangerously close to fainting all of a sudden.

He propped himself up with his arms, but his eyes closed partially as another wave of nausea hit him.

"I might be... dehydrated," he mumbled.

Evaline watched James slowly sit up, trying to study him. Although she kept a calm and neutral expression herself, she desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. By his expression alone, he looked even more sickly with glistening eyes. It almost looked like he was pushing back pain. Now she was wondering if she had accidentally hurt him while bandaging, and he didn't want to show it.

Dehydrated. Yes, of course.

Quickly, she reached for the glass of water she had topped off earlier, and then extended it out to him. "Here, drink up."

She glanced at the half-eaten croissant by his side. "And, um... hungry. Your body might be hungry. You should try to finish the croissant, but if you can't eat that, maybe I can... get more food? Different food? Maybe soup? Something drinkable..?" Her voice got quieter each sentence, and she trailed off in thought.

Now that she finished giving her spiel, she found herself trying to anxiously fill the silences between them, and she had no idea what to say. She didn't know what response she expected, but she didn't think it was about food or water.

James took the cup of water, suddenly feeling like he hadn't had water in years. He kept drinking and drinking until the entire cup was empty. He set it down beside him and picked up the half-eaten croissant, which he'd forgotten about, and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

Perhaps Evaline's story had made him feel exceptionally compliant, or maybe his mind was finally catching up to his body's need. In any event, now his cheeks were stuffed full of bread, like a chipmunk.

He looked over to Eve and smiled with his eyes, knowing he probably looked ridiculous.

James suddenly acted like he hadn't had food or water for days, which, actually, was true. For food, anyways. He only had one big meal this entire week. But with all the blood he lost, he certainly was right that he was dehydrated.

It wasn't supposed to be funny, but when he stuffed his mouth with the croissant and looked up at her with full cheeks, she had to tightly purse her lips together to keep herself from laughing.

"I'll get you more food and water after I clean you up," she said with a smile. "Here."

She stacked the pillows and blankets behind him again like she did last night and helped James prop up against it. When finished, she wordlessly sat in front in front of him and began to unwrap the bandages from the thief wound, a soft smile still on her face.